I Was Going to Stay Forever
by CynicalModerate
Summary: The angel Asphodel offers Castiel the small comfort to set things right before he dies, to finally say the things he's always wanted to the man he's loved for so long. Slash/Character Death.


**A/N:** _Shouldn't even be writing this, to be honest. I have another story I'm supposed to be working on but got too distracted and had to write this one out. 10 points to those who guess what inspired this. Frankly...writing this broke my heart. I don't think I've ever written such a bleak fic before. I'm treating this as a one-shot, I don't know if I could write a sequel. Anything is possible, I suppose. Anyway, this is my first Supernatural fic, so I apologize if you hate it. R/R, if you please._

**EDIT: **_God, the typos I had to fix._

**Warnings: **_Character death, slash of sorts._

**Pairing:**_ Dean/Castiel._

**Disclaimer:** _Don't own it._

* * *

"Why did you not tell him, little one?"

Castiel opened his eyes and gazed up into the mismatched pair that looked so lovingly down at him, feeling a spread of warmth in his chest that cut out the growing coldness he had felt moments before. The room had a fuzzy edge to it, like a dream or a film not quite in focus and the only source of light came from the slender figure kneeling next to him.

"I couldn't do it," Castiel whispered, the pain that had wracked his body earlier subsiding at an alarming rate. It was approaching fast now.

"Why?"

There were tears in his eyes, emotion choking his throat into painful tightness as he struggled to force the words from his tongue. Distantly, he heard the frantic voice calling his name and telling him to hold on. Soon that voice would be gone forever.

"I…I loved him too much to do that to him," the angel whispered.

"Oh, Castiel…sweet Castiel, whom I love ever so much…"

Castiel stared at the beauty of his brother's vessel, the cherry-blonde curls that framed the immaculately structured face, the soft rosy lips that were turned into a sympathetic smile. Only the mismatched eyes marked the vessel as his brother's, one brilliant blue and one frighteningly green, the only constant of the terrible angel.

"You have a new vessel," Castiel said softly.

"Yes. I thought a feminine form would be more comforting to you," she replied.

Castiel felt the weight of his end coming fast, a final panic weighing heavily in his chest. "Must I go, Asphodel? Can I not stay but a little longer?"

The angel looked pleadingly into the feminine face of his brother's vessel, knowing his words wouldn't change anything but hoping against hope that he could stir the other angel to pity. Asphodel brushed a curl from her face, smiling sadly and caressing her sibling's face with a soft but strong hand.

"You know I have no say over your end, little one," she said softly. "I can only offer you comfort in these final moments. But I'm afraid that what I say will be bittersweet to you, my comforts few. Sweet Castiel, why did you not tell him?"

"I thought there would be more time…"

Asphodel's mismatched eyes became bleary. "I told you it was going to happen. I warned you when I shouldn't have, warned you the end was upon you and that you needed to resolve your feelings soon."

"I know," said Castiel quietly. His grace ebbed slowly away with each passing moment, brushed away by Death's icy cold hands that stroked him tenderly. "I've never learned how to properly express myself, brother. I…_feel_ things that confuse me. Anger, joy, humiliation, lust, hurt…_love_…I've become something else, still an angel but less. I don't understand. I never understood."

The sad smile remained, a nod of understanding following Castiel's words. "I can't help you understand, Castiel. I don't understand them myself. The love I feel is so different from the kinds of humans - one of brotherhood and filial devotion. But the feelings you felt – you _feel_ – do not lessen you, Castiel, they make you great. This is the failing of the angelic host, the inability to contemplate such emotions out of the belief such things diminish us."

A strong, slender hand reached down and gripped Castiel's own tightly, unnatural warmth spreading through the angel's body. Brilliant blue-eyes looked fearfully at his brother as he recognized this as the love of his Father, the Father that he couldn't find and now never would.

"Oh, sweet Castiel. I love you so much," said Asphodel quietly. "I've loved you since before you soared among the heavens with us, before the stars were kindled and galaxies of this young creation had coalesced. I've always seen you the way Father sees you – so devoted but not without questions and doubts; faithful but not a mindless fanatic; and the potential to change the course of life for all those you encountered. I want you to know that I have always admired you – you who never took the easy way our brothers did, who fought when there was no glimmer of hope, who saw humans in the light of potential that Father did. I don't believe there will ever be another like you. Which is why I wish so very much that you had told the boy you loved him."

Tears flowed freely from Castiel's eyes, the regret he felt overwhelming. There was pain deep inside him that hurt more than anything he had ever felt, and he found no comfort in Asphodel.

"Please end it," he begged. "It hurts too much. If there can be no resolution for me, no comfort here at the end of all things then send me to oblivion now! End this agony, please brother. I can't feel like this anymore."

Asphodel closed her eyes, gripping her brother's hand tightly and leaning in close to his face. Castiel never saw such pain on another angel's face before, it was as though he was staring into a mirror and looking at his own agony. The angel kissed Castiel on the cheek softly.

"A final kindness I offer you, little one," she whispered into the angel's ear. "Tell him, Castiel, before it is too late."

* * *

There was sudden pain as air flooded his vessel's lungs once again, the surge of life and time ramming his heart against his ribs and the roar of blood throbbing in his ears. Blue-eyes snapped open and searched the room he was in frantically, trying to understand what was happening.

"Cas! Oh God, Cas, hold on!"

The voice was heaven to his ears, and he cried at the joy of being able to hear it again. Castiel looked around and noticed the room was dark once again, the fuzzy edge had dissipated completely and he understood what was happening now. Asphodel was granting him comfort in his final moments.

He cried at that too.

"Dean," he croaked, his tongue sticking to the roof of his dry mouth as his eyes focused on the hunter who crouched next to him. He looked down and stared at the hunter's hand which gripped his own in desperate, painful tightness, savouring the contact and warmth he had desired for so long.

"You're all right, man, just stay with me," said Dean, squeezing the angel's hand tightly again and laying a hand on his shoulder. His face was one of relief and joy, and Castiel hated that before his time was over that look would be gone.

"I'm going to die, Dean," Castiel said, his voice cold.

Dean looked at the angel and the raw emotions that burned so brutally in the brilliant blue eyes. He flinched at the sight and didn't know why he was so surprised to see the emotions he did, perhaps the most shocking was the confused innocence that underlay them all. The purity of his angel always betrayed the lack of experience Castiel had with such feelings.

The hunter closed his eyes and looked away a heavy sigh, unable to continue to look at the rawness of his angel's emotions.

"You're not going to die, Cas," he said firmly.

"Yes, I am," said Castiel with finality. "I'm going to die, and there is nothing you can do about it. Which is why you need to let me speak."

Dean scoffed. "Why are you talking like this, Cas? You're going to be fine. I know you nodded off there for a minute, but-"

"Asphodel is waiting for me, Dean."

The elder Winchester didn't recognize the name, but nevertheless it made his blood run cold. He shrugged anyway, trying to play off his discomfort.

"Who the fuck is that?" he asked, his voice softer than he would have liked. "What makes you put so much stock in what this 'Asphodel' says?"

Castiel was quiet for a while, his dry throat aching as he worked to stop the surge of emotions he was choking on. It hurt so much…

"Asphodel is the Angel of Comfort," he whispered, so low that Dean leaned in a bit to catch his words. "He is…the omen of Death for the angelic host. When we are to die, he appears to us in those moments before oblivion to offer us peace…to remind us of our Father's love. He knows when we all will die…"

"So what, out of the goodness of his heart he told you tonight was the night you get ganked by a Hellspawn?" asked Dean, scowling.

"Yes."

"Bullshit. Considering you're on Heaven's shit list I don't trust anything one of those feathery-assed fuckers says. H-he probably just told you that so you would give up."

Castiel shook his head. "It doesn't work like that, Dean. Asphodel has no reason to lie, has no concern or involvement with cosmic politics like the rest of us. He doesn't have a concern about the Apocalypse or the war. His sole purpose is to offer comfort in the last moments of his brothers' existence. That is why he gave me more time, to give me the chance to…to set things right. To attempt to settle anything left unresolved."

"I don't want to talk about this," Dean said, his throat tight. "I really don't. You're not going to die, Cas."

"Please let me speak, Dean. Please let me tell you this before-" Castiel coughed suddenly, his body shaking as spittle and blood flecked his lips. He didn't even have the strength to wipe it away, his grace and life diminishing with every second.

"You try to pretend not to know about the feelings I have," Castiel continued, a note of desperation in his voice and eyes firmly planted on the wall across from him. "I don't know whether you return them or not, but if I am really supposed to die I will bare myself to you. I…care immensely for you, Dean. There is this…swell of emotion inside me that hurts – it's a pain I can't put into words. I hate it, but at the same time I want it. It's unbearable the amount of affection I have for you, and I wish I could show this to you so that you could understand these feelings I have are real."

Castiel's voice shook as he became overwhelmed by his own words. He felt the time he had ebbing away with every second, cursing himself for not speaking before now.

"I don't know how to express these things, Dean" he said quietly. "My words are inadequate to explain how much I…"

"Why are you telling me this, Cas?" Dean asked, his strangled words cutting off Castiel's before he could finish. The elder Winchester forbade his body to tremble, damning his eyes for the tears that clouded his vision.

"Bec…because I am going to die tonight, Dean," Castiel said, his breathing heavy. "I don't have the grace to heal my body and ther…there is no time to get me the medical attention I need. This is the end for me, Dean. I wanted you to know…it was never my intention to hurt you so. I know you are probably ashamed of these things I am telling you, ashamed that it is a…a man of sorts who loves you."

"Goddamn you, Cas," Dean whispered fiercely and blinking away the warm, burning tears. "You have no right to do this! You are going to fight and hold on. You are not going to hurt m-us like this! You can't leave us!"

He was screaming now, his fist clenched tightly in the angel's coat and shaking the stilling angel violently.

"I've upset you," the angel said, his face dropping at the dismayed look in Dean's eyes. "I am sorry, Dean. That wasn't my intention."

"Why didn't you tell me this before now?" asked Dean harshly.

"Because I was afraid," said Castiel simply. He felt so very tired, his limbs heavy with exhaustion and his eyes drooping heavily. He didn't feel his wound anymore, just a familiar warmth from earlier. The room began to grow fuzzy again and he perceived a form next to him, waiting patiently. Asphodel was pulling him back.

"So this is how you are leaving it? Dropping this fucking bombshell before you die and leaving me to pick up the pieces?" Dean's voice trembled with rage and fear.

"I never wanted it like this," whispered Castiel, salty tears streaming down his cheeks and onto his dry lips. "I thought there would be more time. I never wanted to leave you and Sam…"

The angel's voice faltered for a minute as his eyes drooped closed and he drifted off before a sudden surge of adrenaline waking him as he realized what would happen.

"I never wan…wanted to l-leave you, Dean. I never wanted to hurt you. I was going to stay with you forever."

"Then stay!" shouted Dean as he shook him again. "I don't understand why you are just giving up!"

"If I ha…had a choice…I would stay." It was hard to talk now, and he was so tired.

"There is always a choice, Cas!" shouted Dean, cupping the angel's cheek and forcing the nodding head to look at him. He was clammy, but there was a spark of hope when the angel leaned into his hand.

"You're warm," he whispered quietly.

"Please don't leave me, Cas," said Dean pitifully, letting the tears fall freely.

Castiel's blue eyes watched the man he loved weep, using the last of his strength to reach up and clumsily wipe a tear away.

"You…you're crying f…for me."

Dean pulled the angel close, enfolding him and pressing Castiel's head against his chest tightly as if he could will the angel to stay alive. Castiel smiled, content for the first time in a long while. This simple action comforted him more than any words Asphodel could offer him, and he realized now he could go without any regrets.

"…love you, Dean," he coughed, feeling the last moments of his time slipping away. This was where he wanted to die, here in his charge's arms.

"I'm not going to say it," Dean said fiercely. "If you want me to say it you have to live."

"…d…don't need…to hear it."

Dean cradled the angel's head, rocking slowly as lips brushed the dark brow, not quite a kiss but not an accident. The hunter felt helpless, clutching Castiel tightly like he was holding the life in the heavenly creature within the body that housed him.

"I…I was go…going to stay…forever…"

"Then stay…" said Dean weakly.

The angel's chest ceased to rise and fall as he grew very still and finally limp in the Winchester's arms. Dean tilted Castiel's head back, caressing the face he knew so well and shaking violently.

"Cas? Wake up."

But he knew the angel would not because there was nothing to wake up. Dean didn't know what to do but rage and cry, his pain so immense he could barely stand his own body. It didn't matter how he twisted and turned, how much he cursed at the angel or what he prayed, Castiel wouldn't come back.

* * *

Asphodel watched the young hunter clutch the empty vessel of her dead brother, folding her presence in upon herself so she could not be sensed. She could offer no comfort to the elder Winchester, it was not her place or calling for such things. There were other angels for such purposes, but she wondered privately if Dean had just lost his angel of comfort.

She knelt down next to the still body, hesitating just a moment before brushing the brow of her brother's vessel and feeling a great sense of loss.

There would never be another Castiel.

All of Heaven and Earth were less for it.

* * *

When the Hellspawn came Dean was waiting.

His blessed blade was gripped tightly in his hand, he stared angrily into the yellow eyes that glinted with malice and cunning. But those eyes were nothing compared to the hatred that burned in the hunter's own eyes, the pain and loss that bordered on madness and made the creatures retreat back a bit. But even if they had run Dean would have followed, hunting them down to the ends of the earth and punishing them for what they had done.

When the first of the two gnarled, blackened creatures lunged for him, the hunter spun out of the way and brought his silver blade across in a slash, catching the next creature in the jugular but failing to decapitate. The creature hissed hatefully at him and clutched at the wound as Dean jerked the blade out and swung again, cursing as it ducked and began slashing wildly with its talons, making Dean jump back on his heels. He pivoted on his right foot and leaned back to duck under a particularly close swipe before striking out with the blade, putting his whole strength behind the slash and sinking it back home into the gaping jugular wound. There was a familiar squelching sound that signaled the tearing of muscle and bone, a scarlet mist spraying across Dean's face and chest as the blade cleared the neck and the head toppled to floor with its body following seconds behind it.

The hunter reveled in the carnage, his grief being exercised through the act of revenge and violence.

His angel was dead and it was their fault.

Using Dean's momentary distraction the other Hellspawn lunged at his exposed back, fangs bared and talons poised to strike. But Dean twisted quickly and smacked the creature across the face with the hilt of his blade, spinning his wrist and adding more blood to the sliver length of the blade as it sliced through the expose neck. The creature gave a pitiful howl before its vocal cords were severed.

It was over too fast, leaving Dean standing amongst the decapitated bodies of the Hellspawn and Castiel's prone form. The Winchester still hurt, but he worked slowly and picked up his angel's body and walked it through the woods and snow to the waiting Impala, wrapping the angel in a blanket he had and laid him carefully in the back seat.

There was no music on the way back to his brother, no screaming or crying. Just an empty silence in the car as Dean struggled to not drive the Impala into a tree. It wouldn't let him see Castiel again.

When Sam met him outside the motel he fell into his little brother's arms, dead weight and exhausted with grief. Sam slowly pieced together what happened to Dean and Castiel as best he could through the wracking sobs his brother couldn't hold anymore. He had never heard Dean make such a horrible wailing. Sam didn't completely understand what had happened, only that Castiel was dead and Dean mentioned something about love. He wouldn't completely understand until later when he and Dean took the body to Bobby's and burned it.

Watching the flames consume the vessel of his angel, Dean fell to his knees and wretched when he realized that there was no way to bring him back. Castiel was gone and there would never be another like him, and in his head the angel's words repeated over and over again.

_"I was going to stay with you forever."_

His angel was dead.


End file.
